


What We Call Ourselves

by EntreNous



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Mission Fic, Political Asylum, Transgender, Transgender Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 06:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3640179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EntreNous/pseuds/EntreNous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"If the Ch'anche are at war, I would think going to those talks would be priority one," Bones put in.  He took a swallow of coffee.  "The kid in sick bay can wait a little bit if you need to.  There's nothing wrong with her, exactly, even if she's damn surly."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	What We Call Ourselves

**Author's Note:**

> For the tumblr prompt: Spirk -- Jim and Spock must care for a teenager who identifies as queer.

Jim glanced at the PADD to review the notes Uhura's team had put together for him. The language the Ch'anche people used still posed a few problems for the universal translator, and while various Communications minions scrambled to input the new data, everyone was trying to bridge the gap with electronic cheat sheets.

"And Uhura can't speak to -- what's the girl's name -- Ragame -- right now?" Jim asked Spock and Bones when he joined them in the conference room just outside sick bay. "I'd rather we get someone with her linguistic skills on the case, who can parse out exactly what the hell the problem is."

"Lieutenant Uhura is currently occupied with speaking to the leaders of the opposing factions," Spock reminded him.

"Of course, right," Jim said absently, his eyes again studying the notes. They hadn't expected to find the most populated continent of Anche at war when their landing party beamed down, but it seemed the Federation's info on the world was just a little out of date. “Well, if anyone can handle those guys it's Uhura, but we should join her ASAP."

"If the Ch'anche are at war, I would think going to those talks would be priority one," Bones put in. He took a swallow of coffee. "The kid in sick bay can wait a little bit if you need to. There's nothing wrong with her, exactly, even if she's damn surly."

"Doctor, the Federation's guidelines for investigating the cases of those calling for asylum is abundantly clear," Spock began.

"Yeah, yeah, code this, section whatever-teen, blah blah blah," Bones grumbled into his mug. "The Captain and the First Officer have to review the asylum case at the start of the inquiry before matters can proceed." 

"We just need to talk to her for a few minutes, along with Ensign DiLorenzo, get the process going. Then we'll join the Lieutenant and her team, see if we can't help iron out some of the conflict." Jim got to his feet and Spock rose to join him.

"Well, if you're going to put that first on the docket, can't you ask all your little questions in here, and clear out my sick bay?" Bones called after them. "The kid's glaring at everyone. Makes the nurses jittery."

"Makes _you_ jittery if you don't get to be the grumpiest one in Medical," Jim countered at the same time that Spock intoned, "As previously stated, Doctor, the dictates for questioning an applicant for asylum with the Federation --"

"Blah blah blah," Bones hand waved them, slouching off in the direction of his office. 

"Ragame, welcome," Jim began as he strode over to the thin humanoid girl slouching on one of the bio beds. Ensign DiLorenzo looked like he had already attempted to talk to her with very little success, judging from how he clutched his PADD nervously and shot Jim an imploring look. "I'm Captain James T. Kirk; this is my first Officer, Mister Spock."

Her eyes flickered to them and then deliberately away.

"Okay," Jim said slowly. Most likely he had left out some word or idiom he was supposed to use if she was ignoring them. "If you could fill us in a little on why you want to apply for asylum --" He tried to look at his PADD as surreptitiously as possible. There it was, the appropriate form of address, one of the set that Uhura had assured everyone were absolutely necessary to employ in any interactions with the Ch'anche. "Why you want to apply for asylum, lei."

"That is incorrect, lui," Ragame interrupted him. She looked so furious that Jim had to curtail the impulse to take a step back. "You will not address me in such a fashion."

"That's pretty much what I've been dealing with for the last forty minutes," Ensign DiLorenzo muttered.

"Inappropriate, Ensign," Spock said coolly. 

DiLorenzo heaved a put-upon sigh. He looked ready to complain more, but he simply said, "Understood, Commander."

"That one, lui, insists on designating me in that manner," Ragame declared, pointing at DiLorenzo angrily. 

Jim opened his mouth and closed it. Ragame looked haughty as she sat scowling at them, and she came across as annoying as hell so far. But something about the way she clutched her arms to her torso, and her tactic of darting her eyes around the room during any pauses in the conversation spoke of something different. It reminded Jim of the times he'd try to bluff his way out of a jam with police when he was a teenager, sounding cocky but feeling terrified underneath it all.

"We must proceed with our questions if we are to grant you asylum," Spock told her. For Spock, he sounded almost kindly. "Otherwise, your request must be denied out of hand." 

"No, you must not, lui," she snapped; her eyes went wide in what could be nothing but fear. "I cannot return to Anche!"

Jim tilted his head to the side. When he stepped away, out of earshot, Spock joined him.

"Do you think we're getting the form of address wrong?" Jim asked in an undertone. "I know Uhura said the Ch'anche take offense easily when that's off."

"Negative." Spock held out his PADD and scrolled briefly through the instructions from Communications. "The work the Lieutenant and her team are carrying out, though incomplete as of yet, has been excellent thus far. Even given our limited knowledge of the formalities of the Ch'anche language, there is no way this address is the incorrect one when speaking to a female Ch'anche."

Jim nodded, running his fingers through his hair at the same time as he tried to think of how they should proceed. He didn't miss the way Spock's gaze followed his hand; if they were alone right now, he knew Spock would smooth Jim's hair back in that careful and proprietary way he had. It still made Jim's heart skip a beat every time.

There wasn't much chance of the two of them being alone for a while yet, though. Not if the Ch'anche leaders’ arguments continued without resolution, and definitely not if Ragame's stalling delayed them from getting to the negotiations.

"Guess we just try again?" he suggested.

"We shall endeavor to approach the situation once more," Spock agreed.

"Kind of what I just said, Mister Spock," Jim said dryly, but he gave Spock a small smile. Figured he'd find it charming now, whenever Spock insisted on reiterating whatever Jim had just voiced only to make it sound way fancier. Though a mountain of urgent matters awaited them with this mission, Jim couldn't resist taking a second to hold two fingers out discreetly.

His eyes warm, Spock briefly touched Jim's fingers with his own.

When they returned to speak with Ragame, DiLorenzo seemed to be ignoring the girl. He'd nearly turned his back on her as he tapped something into his PADD.

"Dismissed, Ensign."

"But sir, my studies of the Ch'anche," the Ensign objected.

"Apparently aren't doing any good to this actual Ch'anche we're working with," Jim told him. "Dismissed."

DiLorenzo frowned but nodded once before leaving sick bay.

"You are innamori, lui," Ragame blurted out.

"Uh." Jim scanned the PADD but couldn't find anything matching the word; the Universal Translator suggested nothing. "Could you -- lei -- no, sorry, uh -- " He fumbled for something to say without getting tripped up by the form of address thing again.

"Explain the meaning of innamori," Spock requested.

Ragame's eyes narrowed, though it wasn't clear whether it was at the lack of address in Spock's words or what she deemed the incorrect one in Jim's.

"You are -- " She paused, her brow furrowed. "Sweet-hearts, lui," she said at last, the Standard words stilted and unsure.

"Oh. Oh! Yeah, uh. We try not to make a big deal of it," Jim stammered, looking to Spock for help. He wasn't really prepared to talk about his love life with a Ch'anche teenager. 

"It is inconsequential to this matter," Spock told her.

"It is not, lui," she declared, back to using her own language. Without warning, she made a grab for Jim's PADD.

"Hey," he protested when she yanked it away. 

"It is --" She ignored him and scrolled down, grimacing at some of the words as if they offended her. Suddenly she thrust the PADD back at Jim, jabbing her finger on one word. "Here."

"Lui," Jim read. The Communications definition followed: _The male form of address. Always to be used when addressing any males of the Anche origin._

The same form Ragame had been using with him, with Spock, with Ensign DiLorenzo.

He and Spock exchanged a glance, and Jim looked again at Ragame -- the bruised arms the hunched posture almost hid, the frightened demeanor lurking behind the bravado, the now-evident reason why asylum might be so desperately needed. 

Jim took a breath. "Ragame. Could you tell us why you want to apply for asylum -- lui?"

Ragame angrily swiped away tears. "That is -- you may not call me that on Anche. It is forbidden."

Jim glanced at the -- the boy sitting in front of them, the Ch'anche boy who probably fought as best he could on his home world against a rigid way of speaking to and about people, a system he just couldn't fit into. A system that, judging from the contusions Jim could now see, had definite consequences.

"But it is correct," Spock said slowly.

Ragame nodded, his face getting splotchy even as he obviously tried to hide the fact that he was crying. " _Yes_."

"But we may call you that -- _we_ may address you correctly -- on the Enterprise," Jim said firmly.

Ragame gave a jerky nod. 

"Please let us help you, lui," Jim said gently. He felt Spock's fingers breeze against his wrist, the barest reassuring touch. 

"Yes, lui," Ragame agreed, sitting up straighter. 

***~* the end *~***


End file.
